Live For Tomorrow
by Full Power
Summary: After returning to Woodbury from the prison, what if Andrea listened to Carol's advice and killed The Governor in his sleep? Now, with the group's biggest threat eliminated, can Rick and the others live a life of protection and give baby Judith the life she deserves to have? Rickdrea and Caryl prominent in this fic.
1. Chapter 1: I Am A Judas

_Live For Tomorrow - Chapter One: I am a Judas_

It was a quiet night in Woodbury, though perhaps the silence fit the occasion. Though clocks had lost their purpose since the apocalypse started, Andrea still found it in herself to look at the clock hung on the wall. 3:11, it read, but Andrea knew it couldn't have been that late. After all, she'd only returned a couple hours prior, just after the sun had set.

"_The Governor...you need to do something. No...you need to sleep with him. Give him the greatest night of his life, get him to drop his guard, then when he's sleeping...you can end this._"

Leave it to Carol Peletier, once the quietest member in the entire survivor camp, to give Andrea the best idea of them all. It was an idea she had considered once before, but even then...she couldn't do it.

Andrea took a deep breath, and stared one more time at the sleeping man in front of her. Andrea Harrison was a woman of logic and intellect; though she was often stubborn, there was no denying Andrea carefully planned things ahead before acting, possibly the main reason why she'd survived the past year or so of hell. One of the few times she hadn't actually paid off in the long run, as she met Michonne, the samurai that saved her ass countless times.

But then again, there was Philip Blake, or The Governor, as he preferred to be called. Philip had welcomed the two into his sanctuary town, Woodbury, without a problem at all, treating them as if they were longtime residents. He was charming, a man of intellect that knew just the right things to say, whether it be to a young inhabitant of the town or a beautiful woman like Andrea.

Philip wasn't all that he appeared to be, though. The charm he'd impressed Andrea with upon her arrival to Woodbury was slowly being replaced with anger and hatred, all at Michonne and Andrea's friends from the prison. It had been Michonne that robbed Philip of his eye, took away his daughter (though, Andrea would argue that Philip's daughter, Penny, would have been dead for a long time), and Rick had led a group into Woodbury to save Glenn and Maggie.

As the days went on, Andrea saw less of Philip, the human being, and saw more of The Governor, a sadistical creature that wanted to bring nothing but pain and suffering to those who came in his way. It was why Philip...no, The Governor, led that attack on the prison, and it was why he'd stop at nothing to have the dead body of Rick Grimes at his feet.

And to an extent, Andrea definitely understood why Philip was so hell bent on defending Woodbury, the people who'd become his family at a time when he had no one really left. If Amy were still alive, and she was in danger from a man like Philip (though, Rick was _nothing _like Philip), Andrea would have no issues doing something to protect her younger sister. It was something that went without saying - family, even in a world of murder and darkness, was the only thing that mattered other than survival.

Family. She had no real blood family left; Amy was dead, buried back in the quarry outside of Atlanta, while she hadn't the faintest of ideas where her parents were, or if they were even alive. Andrea hated to admit it, but she hadn't even really thought about her parents since the early days on Hershel's farm, almost an entire year ago. There were no more instances of Andrea daydreaming about fishing with her father, or excitedly calling her mother after a long day at the office.

For Andrea, her true family was across the forest, holed up in a prison. Rick, Carl, Daryl, Carol, the Greene family, Glenn, Michonne, even Rick's new daughter, Judith - they were Andrea's family, and they had been since the moment the survivor's camp was formed just outside of the big city.

They'd helped her when Amy died, and she'd helped (in vain) to find Sophia. It was Andrea that nearly gave her life to save Carol from the herd at Hershel's farm, and rather than turn her away upon her return, she was welcomed back, for the most part, with open arms. _That _was family, and in the shit show the world had become, family was all that remained of the old world.

And it was at this moment, Andrea heard members of her family in her head, consoling her on the decision in front of her:

"_Do it. End this son of a bitch," Shane told her, his tone showing he was clearly fed up with the man that plagued Andrea and her friends. "He's nothing but a THREAT, damn it!"_

"_There's no use keeping a man like this alive, sweetie," Jacqui said in a soothing voice, sending chills down Andrea's neck. Andrea had forgotten what Jacqui's voice had sounded like, her having been lost in a suicide attempt at the CDC. "This is a monster; he makes Merle and these walkers look like innocent children."_

"_Men like The Governor...they've let the horrors of this world get to them. There's no hope for him," Dale, once the group's voice of reason, slowly admitted. For Dale to tell her that there was no hope in someone, even after he begged the group to spare that boy, Randall...it meant even Dale knew how dangerous Philip was. "Andrea, he's lost his way."_

"_Get 'em, Andrea! You can save everyone that way. You can help Rick's new daughter live the life that she _should _have in this world," Amy urged, enthusiasm evident in her voice. Of course, Amy, majoring in childhood studies, would be thinking about baby Judith. _

"_The Governor...you need to do something. No...you need to sleep with him. Give him the greatest night of his life, get him to drop his guard, then when he's sleeping...you can end this," Carol said, her voice remaining soft. "Do it, Andrea. For us all."_

Andrea's biggest issue with doing it wasn't even taking the life of a living human, but to do it in this manner - killing someone as they slept, unable to fight back and defend themselves. It was like what Jenner said back at the CDC, when he defended opting out of living by saying it was better to die this way rather than be killed as you slept by walkers.

Or, as it turned out now, humans.

There was a part of Andrea, even as much as she tried to fight it, that thought Philip and Rick could work it out. They were two leaders, two diplomats; couldn't they just agree to some kind of truce and leave each other alone?

No, of course not. Philip was too stubborn to do anything like that, and to the people of Woodbury, making a truce with the leader of a group that killed several of the Governor's people would be an admission of failure. Besides...there was something different about this Rick, like the man who'd clung so much to the ways of old back at Hershel's farm was gone.

Instead, the former deputy was now a man of action, willing to hurt _anyone _that tried to endanger his family. Back at the survivor camp outside Atlanta, Rick had been so willing to go into a walker-infested city just to save Merle Dixon, a racist junkie that, looking back, contributed little to the group. Now, Andrea had to ask herself if Rick would even consider sending _anyone _to save someone that put everyone else at risk.

But then again, that was who Rick was. It was who Daryl was, putting himself in harm's way day after day just to find Sophia Peletier. That's who Glenn was, risking his life in Atlanta for even the smallest batch of supplies that might not even last a full week. That's who T-Dog was, going around after the initial outbreak in a church van to find out if the elderly in his area needed a ride to the rescue zones.

They did it all for their family, and not just their blood. The group that had formed outside of Atlanta became a family then, and they were a family now. If there was one thing Andrea Harrison had learned in the apocalypse, it was that family took precedence above everything else.

This was for her family. Raising the knife high above her head, Andrea ignored the voice in her head, sighed, and made her decision. With speed that rivaled even Daryl Dixon, Andrea plunged the knife into Philip's head, destroying the man's brain on impact. Immediately, Philip stopped breathing, his body freezing in motion.

The knife, sleek and clean before with a sharp reflection, was now covered in crimson blood and gore from the man's brain. Nearly throwing up at the sick sound of blade hitting brain, Andrea turned away and withdrew the knife as quickly as possible, making sure not to stare at the now deceased corpse of her ex-lover.

Philip Blake, the leader of Woodbury, was reunited with his daughter, Penny, at long last - the man known as The Governor was dead, and Andrea, a woman that had never killed a member of the living, was the murderer.

The room, which before only hosted the sound of Philip's light snores, was now deadly silent; Andrea was unnerved, not really used to any type of silence from The Governor.

"At least, he can now be with Penny," Andrea told herself, trying to justify the murder. Of course, even Andrea knew that justifying something like this would be extremely hard. Taking the life of someone who could defend themselves, while still relatively bad, was nothing like killing a man as he slept. That, in a way, made her just as bad as the walkers.

_I can't dwell on that, now,_ Andrea thought, moving away from Philip's body; the man's head began to leak blood onto a pillow, the same one Andrea had been laying on just a few minutes earlier.

Grabbing her blade and a pistol from Philip's desk, Andrea slowly made her way out of The Governor's apartment, using the best of her ability to sneak as quietly as possible. For anyone, especially one of Philip's elite men, to catch her sneaking out at this hour with a bloody knife in her hand...well, it wouldn't have gone too well. She just had to sneak, just as she had done every time she encountered a small herd of walkers.

THUD!

Not paying attention, Andrea had banged her knee against a wall. Luckily, it wasn't loud enough to wake anyone up, but it was a good thing the former lawyer had bit down on her lip. Otherwise, Andrea likely would have yelled out a scream that would have alerted all of Woodbury.

Slightly limping, Andrea continued down the stairs, making sure to go one step at a time to prevent someone from hearing. As she made her way out the front door, Andrea ducked into an ally, looking out for anyone standing in the streets. Luckily for Andrea, Woodbury was dead empty, with the exception of trash and what looked to be bullets.

Composing herself, Andrea began to think in her head what the plan was. It was too late to try taking a car, and even if it wasn't, Andrea wasn't trying to get into a conversation as to _why_ she'd be taking a car at this hour. Walking directly through the town _might _work, though if Martinez or Shumpert were on watch, an issue could arise there. Sneaking out through one of the sides wouldn't work, especially if there was a walker directly out there.

Then, Andrea smirked, realizing what the perfect plan was. Reaching for her knife, the blonde-haired female tiptoed around the buildings, making only one, quiet, noise in the process:

"Next stop, the prison."

_Alright, welcome to Live For Tomorrow. The main premise of this fic, as you can see, is Andrea going through with killing Philip/The Governor in 3X11 (I Ain't a Judas), which, in turn, changes the whole TWD universe as we know it. Chapters won't normally be _this _short (I usually try to shoot for at least 3,000 as a minimum), but I didn't want to make the first chapter too long and take away from the main moment, so to speak. _

_As you can tell by the description, this is going to turn into a RickXAndrea fic. Though I'm rooting for RickXMichonne in the TV series right now, I did want to see RickXAndrea way back in season three after Lori died. This is not going to immediately be the two are in a relationship, but it'll build up. LFT (Live For Tomorrow) will also have Caryl in it, so if either of those two aren't your biggest flings, then this may not be the fic for you._

_I won't bore you too much with an Author's Note, but definitely be sure to tell me your thoughts in a review or private message. I often like to answer questions at the end of chapters, so if you have any, definitely leave them and I'll do my best to answer them. Alright, I hope you enjoyed the first chapter of LFT; this is FP out, and I'll see ya'll next chapter. _


	2. Chapter 2: Home

_Live For Tomorrow - Chapter Two: Home_

Andrea sneaked through the Woodbury alleys, making sure to keep her knife in close proximity at all times. If this escape mission was going to go as planned, there could no errors, no mishaps. She'd walked for...actually, Andrea had no idea how long, but she knew it couldn't have been too long. The only thing stopping her was someone being outside and spotting her, asking why she'd be leaving at this hour.

_I'm not in the mood to have Milton talk me into staying_, Andrea thought, wall hugging one of Woodbury's main 'markets' to prevent being spotted. _It sucks it had to come to this, because I was excited to see how this market would do..._

Finally, after a couple more minutes of sneaking, Andrea could see the gate; her only way out of this hellhole was in plain sight, finally here. On guard was one of the newcomers, Allen, which perplexed Andrea. Earlier that day, Andrea had found him, his son, and two other survivors in the forest on her way to the prison. _Interesting, that on only his first day here, he'd already be on watch_, Andrea thought to herself, momentarily confused. _I bet Martinez has him and that other man, the black one, learning how to do watch shifts._

Andrea approached the gate, keeping calm and showing no signs of fear. To openly show those emotions, especially after the world had gone to shit, almost always resulted in failure and possibly death.

"Hey, what are you doing?" Allen asked, scowling. Though the man didn't raise his gun at Andrea, the blonde woman could tell he was _definitely _considering it. To be fair, she couldn't blame her; at this hour, anyone not named Governor or Martinez leaving Woodbury seemed behind sketchy.

"I'm...on my way out," Andrea replied, putting on her best 'I have stuff to do so please let me leave' face. "On our way back from the prison earlier, I noticed a car in the middle of the woods. It looked like it'd been abandoned, so I wanted to go look at it, see if I could get it running and bring it back."

"A car?" questioned Allen, tightening his hold on the rifle. "Are you sure? Me, Ben, Tyreese, and Sasha, we didn't see any cars over there...well, any cars that looked recently abandoned at least. There was one car, but it was in the river."

"No, that's not it. This one, it's near this bridge close to Woodbury; knowing Milton and how OCD he is, I bet he didn't take you that way," said Andrea, smiling at Allen. "Milton probably took you just right through the woods, right?"

Falling for the bait, Allen's scowl disappeared. "Yeah, he did. Told us," Allen paused to imitate Milton's nerdy voice, "'we have to go the way I have gone each and every time."

Despite the situation, as well as how quiet Woodbury was, Andrea began to laugh. "Yeah, he says the same thing every time! I'm telling you, he's so OCD that it annoys me. Anyways, yeah, the car is on the bridge. I would've stopped earlier, but wanted to clear it with The Governor and the higher ups because it was a bit...out of the way, if you will."

"I don't blame you. You never want to take things into your hands when you're in someone else's house...or sanctuary," agreed Allen, giving Andrea some hope that he'd let her go. "Now listen, I really hate to tell you this, but I'm gonna have to say no. That guy, Martinez, told me _no one _is to leave Woodbury until curfew ends. It's rules and all."

"Yeah, but that's for the civilians. Martinez, Shumpert - that's the black guy, if you've seen him - and me, we can go as long as we clear it with Phil - I mean, The Governor," Andrea explained, catching her mistake mid sentence. Andrea had forgotten that most of Woodbury, with the exception of Philip's 'elites', had no idea what the Governor's true name was.

"You cleared it with him?" Allen skeptically wondered, narrowing his eyes at The Governor's (former) lover. For a second, Andrea froze, thinking she'd just blown her cover. "At this hour?"

"Yes, I did. The Governor's been a bit on edge lately and can't sleep, so I think part of him just wanted me out of there," Andrea laughed, doing her best to ease the situation. "The other part of him wanted me to definitely check out that car, see if I could find anything. You can never have enough supplies, he always tells me!"

Allen smirked, a sight Andrea had yet to see. "I don't blame him. I hope you find those supplies, because if those damn fuckers at the prison got to 'em, there's gonna be war tomorrow. Trust me. They're not going to have a chance when we get to dealing with them."

_Looks like he and Philip would've been great friends_, Andrea thought, disgusted at the guardsman's choice of words. Frowning, Andrea looked Allen directly in the eyes, the former's green meeting the latter's blue. "Listen, I get it. Shit happened there, and they didn't help matters by coming here and attacking our friends, our people. At the same time, though, they're survivors too. We've all seen the worst kinds of things, done the worst things just to stay alive. I don't want it to come to war, not after all this."

Allen snorted at Andrea's response. "I don't know how you can say that. The man who leads them, Rick, I think his name is? He's insane...from what I saw of him, he was just as bad as the walkers, maybe worse," admitted Allen, sending shivers down Andrea's neck. That was almost the same thing she'd heard Jacqui's voice say before Andrea killed The Governor just minutes prior.

"Aren't we all, in a way?" shot back Andrea, venom in her tone. Though Andrea hadn't fully meant it like that, it was enough for Allen to shut up. Her blood boiling, Andrea continued defending her family. "We rob, we sin, we do all of that so that we can wake up the next morning. Think of how much they're probably lost. Think of how much _we've _lost!"

"And that makes what they did right?" yelled Allen, taking a step towards Andrea. "I lost my wife, damn it, and they treated us like animals! All we wanted was a place to stay, a place to be safe; we would have done everything in our power to make that happen. If it meant watch, fine. They wanted us to walk around and kill the walkers, I would have done it. If it comes to war, then so be it."

"I'm sorry you feel that way." Andrea replied, knowing it'd be impossible to convince the widowed husband of changing his ways about the prison. Sighing, the blonde woman grabbed her knife and moved to the end of the gate. "Can I trust you to let me go, or is there going to be an issue when I get back?"

"I really would've liked to clear this with Martinez, because I don't want to mess up on my first day," the bearded watch guard said after a moment of hesitation. "I told Martinez that I wanted to prove my worth immediately, and he put me here. It'd be wrong if I didn't at least talk to him, get his feelings on the matter."

"Alright then, that's fine. Sorry I gave you any trouble...I guess I'll just go in the morning," Andrea said, hiding her annoyance. Stepping backwards and placing her knife back into the holster, Andrea looked at Allen once again, disappointment flashing in her green-colored eyes.

Right before jumping back down into the sanctuary, the woman stopped, reaching for her pistol. Using a trick she'd learned watching Michonne, Andrea kept her body frozen, only darting her head around to determine the issue. "Wait, Allen, did you hear that?"

Doing a full 180, Allen peered into the forest. "Hear what-"

The only thing Allen heard, if anything, was Andrea's cold pistol brutally smashing against the man's head. Though not lethal enough to kill him, the pistol whipping was strong enough to knock the soldier out, giving Andrea a means of escaping what once seemed like home.

"Should've let me go, Allen. I don't know what's going to feel worse, the pain, or Martinez beating the shit out of you once he finds you," Andrea said, jumping down off the gate and running into the forest. "Take care of yourself."

Using every trick in the book she'd learned from the nearly eight months traveling with Michonne, Andrea hung close to the trees, crouching to avoid detection. After pausing for a minute to catch her breath and plan her strategy, Andrea snuck by two walkers that lazily fed on a dead deer just outside of the Woodbury gates. _If Allen was on watch, he really didn't hear two of them groaning and munching? _

Alas, Andrea just wasn't as stealthy as Michonne. Accidently, the blonde stepped on a branch, allowing a CRACK! to echo through the forest as the branch snapped in two. The two walkers looked up from ripping out the deer's intestines to growl at Andrea, snapping their jaws like piranhas.

"Uh oh," murmured Andrea, grabbing the knife from her pocket. Using the gun here would be foolish, as Andrea wasn't really trying to attract the walkers or awaken the people of Woodbury. "Hey, walker, come here!"

When the first walker, formerly a young man with red hair, swiped at Andrea, the blonde jumped back and drove the blade into its brain. Walker one was down, and walker two did its best to mimic its dead companion; clawing and growing at Andrea, the monster slowly approached the blonde with dinner on its mind.

_Now, time to try this out_, thought Andrea, ducking and rolling away from the oncoming enemy. Walker two missed, and unable to hit the former Woodbury elite, Andrea decided to take action and finally end this.

"Gotcha," Andrea said, harshly kicking the walker in its knee. What once used to be a pretty, blonde female was knocked down to the ground, unable to fight back from Andrea plunging her knife into the creature's skull.

Turning the walker over, Andrea got a good look at her latest kill. The walker didn't look like it was recently killed, her skin having turned a pale grey over the last few months. There wasn't much near her neck, and one of the walker's eyes had been bitten out from the skull.

"I'm sorry this happened to you," remarked Andrea, slicing the walker's chest in half. "Now, this is gonna suck…"

* * *

><p>For the most part, nights at the prison were pretty quiet, aside from the tired, lazy groans of walkers attempting to break their way in. Of course, nothing, especially not a walker, was getting past the walls in place; maybe when the walkers learned to drive cars or tanks there'd be a chance, but for now, there was a better chance of Daryl missing three crossbow shots in a row.<p>

So, with that said, Carol Peletier knew she could take it _somewhat _easy from the guard tower. It was a late night, late enough that the moon still shone down on the prison. Holding one of Daryl's rifles, Carol aimed down the sights at those outside of the gates.

_Walker...walker...walker with no arms...maybe one of Michonne's walkers? _Carol thought to herself, aiming the gun at the former humans. The new woman, Michonne, she seemed to have a habit of slicing the arms and jaws off the walkers so they couldn't claw at the group; it was a smart idea, one Carol wished she had used at one point.

It had been another long day at the prison, one of planning to combat The Governor while protecting the group's new home. This was the group's home, and Carol Peletier wasn't going to allow a sociopath like The Governor to take that away from them.

Carol put a hand through her hair, sighing as she felt it starting to get longer and curlier. _It hasn't been this long since before I met Ed_, the widow thought, remembering the asshole that was her husband. It'd been almost a full year since Ed's death outside of Atlanta, and not once had Carol mourned her late husband.

Sophia, though...not a day went by where Carol didn't think of her daughter once; her daughter, that is, not whatever had come out of Hershel's farm. To Carol, Sophia had died once the walker (or walkers...no one had any idea), had first gotten to her. Whatever it was that Rick had to put down nine or so months ago, that wasn't Sophia - it was a monster, one that had killed her little girl.

Sadly for Carol, it was getting harder and harder to remember Sophia's soft face, or her light voice that brought a smile to her mother's face whenever she spoke. As a parent, Carol worried something similar would happen to Carl as the years went on, having lost his mother at such a young age.

Deep down inside, though, there was a part of Carol that was grateful Sophia had been spared from seeing what other horrors the world had provided. Sophia didn't have to worry about starving late at night, or learning how to shoot and hunt. It was a cynical way of viewing things, sure, but Carol had gotten her closure long ago. To Carol, after all this time, there was nothing wrong with being cynical.

"Hmm, something new is approaching," Carol said out loud, aiming the rifle at the woods. Gone from the sights was empty, tall grass, replaced by a bloody woman's slow, sluggish walk out of the forest. It appeared as if it was any other walker to Carol, but as she focused in on the creature, something stood out to the guardswoman...the walker's right hand held a sharp, bloody knife.

"Since when did walkers learn how to hold weapons?" Carol asked herself, though she did vaguely remember a walker in the early days holding a rock. Still, though, a knife? Another walker, decked out in what once were overalls, came closer to the first walker; from Carol's vantage view in the tower, it looked like the second walker was sniffing the first walker, identifying it.

And, if the second walker could still smell, it'd likely be smelling the grass. The first walker, as soon as the second got in close proximity, drove her knife through its head. Its brain destroyed, walker number two collapsed, no longer doomed to eternity as a monster.

"Walkers don't kill other walkers!" Carol cried, briefly thinking she was losing her mind. Carol raised the rifle forward, and nearly fell back upon the gun landing on the walker's face.

"Andrea," Carol breathed, lowering the rifle. Even from here, Carol could see that her friend was on her last legs, struggling to keep her balance. It also didn't help that she was covered in...was that blood!?

Quickly moving down the ladder (at least, as fast as she could move at this hour), Carol sprinted towards the gates, drawing a knife from her belt. "Andrea, hold on!" There were five walkers lined up at the gate, and after Carol got into position, there were five walkers lined up on the ground outside the gate.

_I'm coming, Andrea_, Carol thought, quickly sliding open the gates. Using the last of her strength, Andrea hustled inside, almost collapsing onto the hard ground below.

"Andrea, are you ok?" Carol questioned, embracing Andrea. Considering the circumstances, it was hard for Carol to hug the blonde woman, and the grey-haired guardswoman tried to ignore the smell of guts and blood that radiated from her friend. Though the widow would've loved to turn and retch at the disgusting sight, now wasn't at all the time. "What happened? What's with all...all this blood?"

"Had to...do it...protected me from them," explained Andrea, nearly falling asleep from the comfort of Carol's arms. Tears welled in the blonde's eyes, ready to pour out onto Carol's grey jacket. "I'm not bit, don't worry. You know me...if I was bit, I'd have just ended it already."

_That's a relief_, Carol thought, relieved she wouldn't be losing her friend from an infection. Still, what was Andrea doing here at this hour? Had something happened at Woodbury? "Andrea, it's late. What made you come to the prison?"

Andrea didn't reply.

"C'mon, Andrea...speak to me," Carol urged, using the impatient mother tone tone she'd often use with Sophia and Carl. "What made you come all the way back to the prison, and without a car no less?"

Sighing, Andrea looked up at Carol with a tired look on her face. Andrea may have only been 37, but in this brief moment, she looked 57; stress and guilt ran rampant on her face, and Carol spotted dried tears. "The Governor...he's gone, Carol. You were right."

Carol tightened her grip of Andrea, though the blonde didn't see her raise an eyebrow. What did Andrea mean by he was gone? How was Carol right? "Gone? What do you mean? He left?"

"I listened to what you suggested," Andrea admitted, smiling despite the walker guts near her lips. "I got back, gave Philip the best night of his life. Once he fell asleep, I ended it and came back here."

Carol gasped, the color leaving her face. "You killed _The Governor_?"

"I had to do it," replied Andrea, the strength finally beginning to leave her body. There was a sense of age in the blonde's eyes as her knees gave out, and with not even a peep, Andrea collapsed to the floor.

* * *

><p>When Andrea awoke, the first thing she noticed was light. Well, that, and the fact she was in a bed. It wasn't Philip's comfy, suite like bed, but this wasn't too bad. The pillow was soft, the mattress wasn't too hard, and Andrea didn't feel bugs around her. That, in itself, made the bed a pretty good one in her book.<p>

"Well, look who came back," a voice all too familiar to Andrea said. Looking up, the blonde ex-lawyer saw Rick, dressed in a brown shirt and jeans, walking over to the tired, stressed woman. "Mornin'. I have to say, when Carol told me she found you outside the gates, I thought she was losing her mind."

"Hush, Rick," Carol jokingly said, appearing behind the former deputy. Carol had traded in the jacket she wore outside for a red long sleeve shirt and a pair of black pants, though she still carried around the black rifle from the guard tower. "Good morning, Andrea. You passed out last night in the middle of our conversation, so Daryl and I brought you back inside."

From the corner of the room, Daryl let out an affirmative grunt as he sharpened an arrow.

"I'm back at the prison, aren't I?" Andrea asked, letting out a sigh as her head hit the pillow again. It felt good to be home, a place where she felt comfortable. "I barely remember last night, at least, after…"

As Andrea trailed off, Rick stepped forward, his eyes interlocking with the blonde sharpshooter. "Carol filled me in, at least on what you told her...which wasn't much. You wouldn't mind giving us the whole story, right?"

Andrea prepared to answer, but noticed the clothes she'd come to the prison in were gone, nowhere in sight. Instead, she now wore a dark blue, long sleeved shirt and what appeared to be pants from a prison jumpsuit; it wasn't the most appealing clothing, but even Andrea would admit she was quite comfy. "Before I tell the story, mind telling me what happened to my clothes? I don't recall coming here in...in this."

Chuckling, Rick gestured to outside. "Beth took them off your hands, and she's trying to get all the walker guts out of 'em. Once we're done here, Carol's gonna help her out; there shouldn't be any issues, although the smell was pretty strong."

Her body aching, Andrea still managed to smirk at Rick's humor. "Hey, you weren't the one that had to cut the walker open and smear the guts all over you!"

"Remember Atlanta?" Rick replied, and both laughed. "Puppies and kittens, Andrea. Puppies and kittens."

_This is the most I've seen Rick smile since before Lori died, _Carol thought, frowning at the memory of her lost friend. "I'll have to ask about the puppies and kittens later, I guess. As much as I'd love to sit and chat about walker guts, we need to talk about The Governor."

Rick nodded, knowing Carol was right. "Andrea, Carol told me what she told you, about 'giving him the best night of his life and then ending it' afterwards. I gotta say, I wasn't expecting you to do that."

"Thanks for believing in me, Rick," snorted Andrea, lazily playing with her hair. "When I got back to Woodbury, I sat down with Philip, talked over with him about 'the war', and I realized he was committed to fighting. Rick, he wasn't going to stop until you all were dead, and you were at his feet."

"Asshole," muttered Daryl from his spot in the corner.

"After...well, you know, I couldn't sleep," Andrea quietly continued. "I kept hearing Carol's voice in my head, telling me, "You need to sleep with him, give him the greatest night of his life. Get him to drop his guard, and then when he's sleeping, you can end this. I couldn't convince myself to do it, though; taking the life of a living person, especially one that can't defend themselves, it's a lot different against killing one of the dead."

Biting his lip, Rick sat down on the bed with Andrea. "I understand. First time I had to deal with a member of the living who couldn't fight back get put down, it almost ruined me. Bunch of us - me, Shane, and a couple other cops, did a drug bust about five years ago, knocked down the door and everything. Shane has his shotgun, I have this," Rick pulled out his Colt Python, twirling it on his finger, "and the other two cops have standard pistols.

"So we're going through this shitty house, had to shoot a couple of the drug dealer's lackeys; it was something out of a movie, I'll tell you what," Rick continued, doing his best not to lose it at the mention of Shane. Even after all these months, the betrayal of Shane Walsh still plagued Rick Grimes daily; Rick missed his brother, despite the fact Shane had clearly lost it in those last few days and tried to kill him. "We get upstairs to where the leader is, and he's passed out asleep on the bed."

"You're kidding! He hadn't heard any of what was going on?" Carol asked, but Rick shook his head.

"My guess was the guy was so zonked on whatever he was selling, and he was in La La Land for a while. So, we're in a drug lair with one guy arrested, and two others on their way to a prison hospital...no, it was not this one," Rick said, ironically answering the question Carol had formulated in her head. "The four of us are sitting there, talking about what to do with this guy. We don't know if he's gonna wake up, if he's gonna attack us once he's up; all we know is, we have two options - either we kill him, or we arrest him."

"Let me guess, you arrested him," said Carol, leaning against the cell wall. "I know you...you wouldn't kill unless absolutely necessary, and the police system, for the most part, is - was - like that too."

"You guessed right. I didn't know what to do...this was when Carl was much younger, and all I was thinking to myself is, 'I wouldn't want a piece of shit like this dealing to my kids, fucking up their lives,'" Rick admitted, running a hand through his hair. "But, there was another part of me that knew, 'I have to do what's right for not only my family, but the law.' So, I get it. You went with your gut, and honestly, that's a good trait these days.'

Andrea blushed, not used to such praise from the group's leader. "Thanks, Rick, that means a lot. Anyways, I could hear those we've lost so far - Shane, Jacqui, Dale, Amy - all of them telling me to do it, and I realized something. Philip had a lot of charm, but he lacked the one thing you guys give me: family."

Beginning to get choked up, Andrea continued. "When Amy died, all of you helped me grieve. If I'd been here, maybe…" Andrea stopped, knowing it wouldn't be wise to bring up Lori in front of Rick. A calm Rick Grimes was the Rick that Andrea needed right now, not the crazy, lost, Rick she'd been hearing about. "I don't know, maybe things would have turned out differently. I don't have any blood family left, but you guys _are _my family."

Carol crouched down to Andrea's level and tightly embraced the blonde, rubbing Andrea's back like she would with Lori. "Welcome home, Andrea. We missed you."

Rick smiled, though it was brief. "So, now what? The Governor's gone, sure, but what happens now?" Rick questioned, tightening his belt. "The Governor...does he have any constituents we should be worried about? A second in command that could take over Woodbury and pull another attack on the prison?"

"Well, other than Merle, Philip had a second in command named Martinez. Big, hispanic guy; he's like the Daryl of their group, instead he trades a crossbow and tracking for a pack of cigarettes and intimidation," explained Andrea, frowning when she heard Daryl approach. Even with her lawyer background, Andrea knew she was way too tired to argue with Daryl Dixon about comparing the prison group's second in command to Woodbury's second in command "I always assumed that if something, or someone, was to take Philip out, Martinez would be the one to take over."

"Should we worried 'bout Martinez, or is he easy?" wondered Daryl, admittedly not liking the comparison between him and Woodbury's new leader. "If this Martinez was the leader of Woodbury before, ya think he'd have acted the way ya friend Philip did?"

Andrea took a second to think, attempting to apply her former psych lessons to decoding Martinez' behavior. From the second she first stepped in Woodbury, Martinez hadn't been too harsh with her; all he wanted was for his people to be safe, just like Philip. "Honestly...I don't think so. Martinez seemed a bit hesitant about the fighting between you guys and Woodbury - don't get me wrong, he wanted to avenge the people you guys took out, but he's a bit more understanding than Philip was."

"_Us_, Andrea, not 'you guys'. You back here, right now, that means everything," Rick admitted, putting a hand on the woman's shoulder. "We owe you, we all do. But about this Martinez guy...if we came to him with some kind of truce, like our group gets a certain part of this land and Woodbury gets the other, would he be up for that?" Rick asked, desperate to avoid any more bloodshed and loss.

Between losing Shane, Lori, and T-Dog, Rick knew his family couldn't take much more of this fighting. "It may not sound ideal, but all it means is we keep the prison, they keep Woodbury, and there's no problems. If this guy isn't a psycho like Philip, maybe we help 'em out in some way. "

"I guess so," Andrea shrugged, nodding when Rick stared her down. "From what I saw of Martinez, I think he's a lot more reasonable. He and Philip, they both wanted to protect Woodbury as much as they can. Martinez, though,

"I still want to head back to King County, make a run for some guns and supplies," Rick announced, tiredly rising from the comfortable prison bed. For the first time, Andrea noticed just how stressed Rick was, as grey was starting to line his thick, brown hair. "Andrea, if you're feeling up for it, you're welcome to come. Carl and Michonne will be there too, and truth be told, I could use a sharpshooter if it turns out the town is overrun. We're leaving in a bit, so if you want to tag along, you gotta get ready. Carol, you mind heading outside and just grabbing Carl?"

At the mention of her former traveling companion, Andrea froze. "Michonne's coming?

"_I'm there in Woodbury because those people need me," Andrea told Michonne, crossing her arms. _

"_And what about these people?" Michonne gestured to the people in the prison, those who were Andrea's family. Hershel and his family...Carl...Daryl...Glenn...Carol...Rick...the people that Andrea would die for if need be. _

"_I am trying to save them, too," Andrea replied, though the skilled swordswoman could tell the woman she'd saved only said that to convince herself. It was rare that Michonne could be disgusted with people she cared about like this, but Andrea was making it all too easy._

_Sneering, Michonne darkly chuckled. "I did not realize the messiah complex was contagious."_

The **fuck **did this girl just say to me, _Andrea thought, holding herself back from lunging at the samurai and ripping out her jugular. "Go to hell, Michonne."_

"_He sent Merle to kill me. Would have sent him to kill you, too, if you had come with me. But you didn't, did you? Hm-mmm. You chose a warm bed over a friend," Michonne told Andrea, the samurai's voice cold and condescending. Pain was in Michonne's tone, and it caused the black woman to briefly look away from her former friend. "That's why I went back to Woodbury. Exposed him for what he is. I knew that it would hurt you."_

"Andrea? Earth to Andrea?" Daryl yelled, trying to snap the blonde out of whatever trance she was in. Looking down at his crossbow, the youngest Dixon brother had to hide a smirk once he thought of scaring Andrea with the arrow. "Hey, blondie, wake up. Don't know what ya thinkin' bout, but whatever it is, ya gotta give Rick an answer."

"What? Oh, sorry, guys!" Andrea blushed, her eyes moving downward when she saw Rick's disapproving glance. Knowing Rick and Daryl, it _probably _wouldn't be best to mention Andrea was thinking about her last conversation with Michonne. "Listen, if you don't mind me coming, I'm down. How far is King County?"

"It's about a couple hours, though I doubt we're gonna hit any traffic," Rick snarkily replied , reaching for his cream colored jacket. "I grew up there, so I know all the ins and outs. My thinking was we'd hit up the police station, see what weapons and supplies we can find. I know we got some stuff here, but you can never have enough."

"Alright, that's fine," Andrea said, grabbing the gun that once belonged to The Governor and checked it for ammo. Much to her satisfaction, the pistol had enough bullets for right now; Andrea didn't want to show up with an empty gun, especially when trying to earn the group's trust back. "I want to prove to you guys that I'm with you for the long run."

"Don't gotta worry 'bout that, ya proved that when ya killed Philip," Daryl muttered, loud enough that both Andrea and Rick could hear him. In turn, both survivors cocked their heads at the group's tracker, stunned at his choice of words."What? Ya both know I'm right. She coulda stayed with that pirate fucker but chose us. Ain't nothin' ya gotta prove. Ya home now."

"You know, I never thought I'd see the day when Daryl Dixon gave me a compliment," Andrea sarcastically told the hunter. Andrea found it funny how back in Atlanta, she'd just perceived Daryl and Merle to be the same - Merle, the stereotypical racist redneck with a drug addiction, and Daryl, the little brother who lived in the older brother's shadow, doing his best to mimic the older sibling. "Thank you, Daryl. I'm glad you see it that way."

"It's no problem. Rick, man, we gotta tell our people what happened, have Andrea talk to 'em," suggested Daryl, nodding at the newest member of the group. "Know ya told some of 'em, but this is a group discussion, man. Merle too."

Rick put a hand up, stopping his second in command mid sentence. "No. Merle is not a part of our group, Daryl, and you know that," replied Rick, ignoring Daryl's look of disappointment. This was a conversation both men had dealt with before, and even after all Daryl did to convince his...best friend, Rick's opinion remained the same. "The way Andrea said she wanted to prove herself, show us that she's with us, your brother needs to do that."

"He didn't do that when he saved you from those walkers?" Daryl yelled, his deep voice echoing through the prison walls. "Merle's family, man. Without us, you woulda' died yesterday; you _owe _Merle, and this is how you repay that debt."

"He _endangered our friends_, Daryl. Do you remember what happened in Atlanta? What about what happened in Woodbury with Maggie and Glenn," Rick growled, running a hand through his hair again. "He saved my life, you both did but how do I know he's not gonna try to murder me while I sleep?"

Daryl opened his mouth to reply, but Rick shut him down. "Daryl, you are my best friend and the man I trust with my life. I respect you, respect your opinion on things. I know that without you, this group is broken. But, I _can't _allow him to hurt any of us, especially Judith and Carl."

"I'm staying out of this," said Andrea, making her way into the courtyard outside.

"Rick, that's my _brother_. He's all I got left, man. Ya'll are family, yeah, but I don't want him to leave again," Daryl admitted, making eye contact with the group's leader. Rick could see hurt and desperation in the man's eyes, like Daryl _needed _Merle's presence. "I lost him for nine months, man. You give him - you give _us _a chance, and I promise, I won't make you regret it."

Rick took a second to mull things over, looking back at Daryl again. Without Daryl's hunting skills and leadership, this group couldn't survive. Rick had no idea what Merle had contributed to the group outside of Atlanta, but the former deputy had a feeling it wasn't much. Still...anyone could change, right?

"I ain't gonna beg ya, Rick, but I know if you really wanted him out, you wouldn't have even let him step foot in the prison yesterday," acknowledged Daryl, his fists tightly clenching. "This is your choice, Rick. You put that to a vote, they ain't gonna let him stay. Just make ya choice, man."

Rick took a deep breath, and looked his partner in the eyes. "Daryl, I'll make you a promise. If you can keep Merle under control, and make sure he doesn't pull any shit, he can stay with us," conceded Rick, sighing. It wouldn't be a popular decision, specifically with Glenn, Maggie, or Michonne, but it was a necessary choice. Kicking Merle out meant Daryl would leave, and that was a risk Rick Grimes couldn't dare take.

"One mistake and he's gone, Daryl, and I mean that. He puts any of us in danger, he gets high on _anything_, and I will not hesitate to kick him out of the prison. Is that understood?"

Daryl, though disappointed with Rick's strictness, nodded in understanding. Rick extended his hand, and with no hesitation, Daryl firmly shook it.

_Welcome back to Live For Tomorrow, and I had a lot of fun writing this chapter! It was good to dive deep into the mindset of both Andrea and Carol, as well as give Rick and Daryl some screentime...or is it page time? Regardless, Andrea's back in the prison, and Rick accepted her back. Yay._

_Let's get into Rick's mindset, shall we? Philip's death means a whole change of mind state for Rick, and though he's definitely still skeptical of Merle, he's willing to give him a chance. Why? Well, we'll see fully next chapter, but part of it is his relationship with Daryl. If Merle hadn't died in 3X15, I truly think Rick would've let him back into the group; Merle was _so _close. _

_Now, I don't want ya'll to think I'm going to totally forget about Woodbury. Next chapter, we'll be traveling back to Woodbury to see how Martinez, Milton, and the others are coping with the loss of The Governor. I don't think _all _of next chapter will be dedicated to Woodbury, but I can promise we will be heading there to see how they're responding. _

_Alright, FP out, and I'll talk to ya'll next chapter._


	3. Chapter 3: Never Easy

_Live For Tomorrow - Chapter Three: Never Easy_

"We can't tell them."

Those in Philip Blake's Woodbury apartment glared at Milton Mamet, shocked by the nerdy assistant's choice of words.

"What do you mean?" Caesar Martinez growled, sizing up Philip's aide. "What? We're not going to say anything about 'Governor being killed? Tell me, what happens when they ask, 'Hey, Martinez, have you seen The Governor anywhere?'"

"That's not at all what I meant," Milton stuttered, cowering at Martinez' aggressiveness. Milton knew full well that Martinez was the type of person that would physically assault Milton, whereas Philip would just use guilt and charm; sure, maybe Milton could land a hit or two, but he stood no chance against the hispanic soldier. "I meant, we can't tell them the specifics. Telling them that he was murdered in his sleep scares them, makes them no longer want to stay here. The three of us know that we cannot allow that."

"So what do you suggest," questioned Shumpert, trying not to look at Philip's dead body. The Governor hadn't interacted much with Shumpert, instead leaving Martinez to order the black man around most of the time, but Shumpert still felt an ounce of pity for Philip. Being killed in your sleep was an _awful _way to go out, apocalypse or no apocalypse. "Could we tell 'em he lost the will to live? Seems believable."

Milton took a deep breath. "That idea wouldn't work, Shumpert. These people are scared, but they're not idiots. Why would someone who had so much charisma just hours earlier lose the will to live?"

"Shit, I don't know. Maybe the best thing to do is tell the people he went on a run and was bitten," Shumpert quietly suggested. "He was bit in the neck, and we couldn't cut the bite out. After that, he was put down to avoid coming back as...one of them."

Martinez took a second to think, staring out the window at the oblivious Woodbury citizens. Smirking, Martinez had to admit Shumpert's idea was actually pretty smart; who knew the quiet one of the group could come up with the best plan? "If we do that, then we're going to have to make it believable. Me and Shump will go out on a run, saying Gov is coming with us. We'll bury him, and come back by saying he was bit."

"I-I don't think I like that idea. They could think you brought him out to kill him,' admitted Milton, shaking in his boots. "No, we can't do that."

"Then what the fuck do you suggest, Milton?" Martinez loudly shouted. "Do you want us to say he went on a run with that bitch Andrea, they got separated, and then he was bit?"

Realizing the magnitude of his outburst, Caesar suddenly chuckled. "Now that I think about it, that might work. We tell them we went with those two - or, at least, I did - and Gov got hurt to the point where we had to put him down."

Milton nodded, not looking up from Philip's body. "That...could work. I like that plan. Well, I don't like it because of what happened to Philip, but I mean that I like it because-"

"We get it!" both Shumpert and Caesar said.

"Milton, tell the people we're having a town meeting soon. Attendance is mandatory, and it'll be in the town hall," Caesar ordered. "Shumpert, I need a separate favor from you, and it has to be done immediately. Find me Allen, our newcomer. I need to speak to him…"

* * *

><p>Aside from the loud groans of bloody, disfigured, walkers outside the prison, Rick Grimes had to admit it was a pretty nice day. The sun was shining, and it wasn't too hot out outside; with Georgia, especially in the late summertime, the weather could be beyond brutal.<p>

But, Rick's thoughts weren't on the weather of his home state. Rather, the leader of the prison thought back to his latest meeting with his people, one that hadn't quite gone as planned...

"_As you should know by now, The Governor is no longer with us. We can thank Andrea for that," Rick said to his assembled group, the majority of which smiled either at the news or the group's newcomer; in some cases, such as Carol's, it was both. "Now, I'll be honest for a second, I don't know what happens now. Their new leader may want to fight us, or he may not. Still, we will continue to prepare in case of an attack, whether it be from Woodbury, bandits, or walkers."_

_Hershel nodded at Rick, pleased at the leader's way of thinking. "That's the right call, Rick. There's no reason to get content because he's out of the way. I suggest we look into clearing out more of the prison and see if we can find anymore ammo or supplies."_

"_I'd be all for that," Daryl volunteered. "You say the word, and I'll drag Merle down there with me."_

_Merle frowned, though chose not to stand from his chair. "Ya'll are morons. You think because you killed Philip that Woodbury is just gonna forget about us? Man, ya'll haven't gotten much smarter since Atlanta."_

"_There is no _us, _Merle," spat Glenn, narrowing his eyes at the redneck. "You're not one of us, so don't try to act like you are."_

"_Watch yourself, Chinaman," warned Merle, "you and I both know that you don't want to fight. Stump or no stump, I'll still beat your Chinese ass all the way back to the Great Wall."_

"_He's Korean," piped in Carl, ignoring the 'stay out of this conversation' look Rick shot his way. _

_Merle's reply was blunt. "Whatever."_

_Chuckling at Glenn and Maggie's faces of disgust, Merle turned his attention back to Rick. "I hate to break it to you, Officer Friendly, but I don't think ya'll can hold your own against Woodbury. Sure, ya'll have the experience, and ya'll got the prison, but they have some serious firepower. They got AKs, sub machine guns, everything."_

"_We have a prison," argued Glenn, refusing to acknowledge Merle may have been right. "You mean to tell me that their weapons can overpower a place like this? And, don't forget we've all had gun training. It sure seemed like they didn't have the best training when they attacked us!"_

"_They weren't attacking to kill you! They got the prisoner, but you _really _think they were gunning for you?" Merle laughed, almost falling from his chair. "They wanted to send a message. Believe me, Philip certainly wasn't killing you or Little Bo Peep after what ya'll did to Woodbury, and Officer Friendly? Philip was saving him for last. That attack, it was a warning."_

"_Merle, you sound like you know a lot about Woodbury and what they can do," Rick said, running a hand through his hair. "Andrea mentioned that this man, Martinez, he may take over Woodbury with Philip dead. You know him?"_

"_Know him? He's the one that found me after you left me to die," admitted Merle, scowling at Rick. "He's not a psycho like Governor, but he can hold his own. That spic's got a great aim, though not as good as old Merle!"_

"_I'm sure," mumbled Rick, ignoring Merle's blatant racist comment. "When I get back from King County, I want Daryl and Merle to head into the lower levels, the parts of the prison we haven't cleared out yet. There's gotta be weapons and ammo, plus clothes and other gear we can use to our advantage down there."_

_Glenn raised an eyebrow at the group's leader. "Wait, why Merle? He's not a member of this group. Shouldn't we be sending someone we can trust down there, especially with Daryl?"_

"_I'm giving Merle a chance to prove himself," Rick explained, forcing himself to avoid looking at the smirking Merle. "The way I see it, Merle can help us if he behaves himself. He has military experience, he knows Woodbury, and he's a good shot."_

_"Giving him a chance to prove himself? He tried to kill me! Remember how he put Maggie in danger?" Glenn shouted, clenching his fists. "Without me, you'd have died in that god damn tank back in Atlanta! You'd be a rotting corpse in the city, not alive right now! You're really taking Merle over me and Maggie?"_

"_You and I both know it's not like that," Rick roared back at Glenn. "It's _never _been! This is about survival. You want to bring up Atlanta, fine, I'll repeat what I said on that rooftop - there's us and the dead. We survive this by pulling together, not apart. Now, it's us, the dead, and the living; if we want to survive, we stick together."_

"_You've seen what The Governor can do, Glenn," Carol interjected, coming to Rick's defense. Though the widowed woman wasn't Merle's biggest fan, Carol was smart enough to realize giving Merle a chance wouldn't be as bad as people thought. "Merle can help. You want to live a long life with Maggie? This is how it happens."_

"_You weren't the one he violated," Maggie shot back, fighting the urge to run at Carol and slap her across the face. "How dare you tell Glenn about living a 'long life' when you're defending Merle only to keep Daryl!"_

_Hershel crossed his arms, sighing to himself. Maggie, stop it," the old farmer ordered, trying to hide the frustration in his voice. _

_BANG!_

_The bickering stopped once the sound of a loud gunshot echoed from Beth's pistol, the bullet making its way into the ceiling above. _

"_STOP IT! All of you! Fighting does nothing!" Beth yelled, her voice echoing through the now quiet room. "Rick's right, we survive this by pulling together, not apart. Just stop fighting, please!"_

_Glenn turned away from the group"Make your decision, Rick. Just know that unlike in Atlanta people are starting to be fed up with your bullshit as a leader."_

"Morning, Rick."

Rick's silent thinking was stopped by Hershel, who limped over to the former cop.

"Ah, mornin' Hershel. I guess I owe you an apology," Rick said after a moment of thinking. "I know giving Merle a chance wasn't the popular option, especially with Maggie and Glenn. He's erratic, but I guess I got so blinded by trying to keep Daryl here."

Hershel waved him off. "Rick, you don't have to apologize to me because you know I trust you. If I didn't trust you with my life, or my daughters' lives, then we wouldn't be at this prison right now. I've been in this world a long time, and I know those who are saints, and those who are sinners. Merle, he doesn't quite fall under a specific one."

"Tell that to Glenn," mumbled Rick, his eyes on a walker trying to claw its way into the prison. "Tell that to Maggie. Tell that to Andrea. I don't know if I made the right call, Hershel."

"God is not only the God of second chances; He is the God of another chance. This is good news because most of us mess up the second chance fairly quickly. One of the amazing facets of God's character is His incredible patience with us," Hershel said quietly, reciting a bible passage. "Whatever happened with Merle should be forgotten about if he can prove he's one of us."

"Yeah, I guess," Rick replied, "How can you be so forgiving, Hershel? This man, he kidnapped your daughter and her boyfriend. Tell me, am I making a mistake giving him this chance?"

Hershel sighed and shook his head. "I told you, you've gotta start giving people a chance. Not everyone is going to stab you in the back, Rick. Merle is erratic, yes, but his loyalty lies with his brother; you know that Daryl, he's loyal to us as well. If it wasn't, he wouldn't have come back and saved us from Woodbury. I wasn't with you in Atlanta, but I know if Merle does anything to hurt us, you'll act accordingly."

"Yeah, I guess. It's just...maybe Glenn was right, about people being fed up with me as a leader," Rick admitted, running a hand through his greasy hair. "What have I done lately, Hershel?"

"Don't be so hard on yourself, Rick. This anger, and this self loathing, it will destroy you," Hershel advised, putting his hand on Rick's shoulder. "Don't forget, it was you that saved all of us from my farm. Without your leadership, we would never have found this prison, Rick. How many of us would still be alive?"

Hershel stared off into the distance, his eyes locked on the rising sun. "I get it. Do you remember what I told you after the barn, about how there was no hope? You've brought us that hope, Rick. Don't sell yourself short. Now, I believe you have a ride to catch?"

"Yeah, I'll be there in a minute," Rick replied, biting his lip. As Hershel hobbled away, Rick crouched down. Sighing, the prison's leader looked to the sky, tears welling in his eyes.

"Lori...I don't know what to do. Please, _please_ give me some sort of sign that I'm doing the right thing," Rick pleaded, his voice desperate. "I can't keep going like this...the fighting is killing this group. I need to know I'm not making any mistakes."

Far off, Andrea watched the group's leader speak to himself, her eyebrow raised in confusion….

* * *

><p>"Everyone, I have some upsetting news," Martinez began, capturing the attention of Woodbury's people. "I need everyone to come here, because this is important news."<p>

Martinez cleared his throat. "Early this morning, I went out on a supply run with The Governor. During this time, we came across a small shop full of warm clothing and supplies to help us last the cold winter ahead. Myself, Andrea, and Governor went out; we left Shumpert here to watch over the town." Martinez stopped to nod in the black man's direction. It was a believable lie, as Shumpert _had _been walking up and down Woodbury all morning. "We found supplies, and then, we noticed the store was connected to other stores."

"I used to work at one of those," a black haired female shouted. "The one that's near that Big Spot, right?

"That's the one," Martinez said, internally shaking but maintaining his calm facade on the outside. For the first time that day, Martinez truly understood what Philip must've gone through when he was leading these people, how there was a heavy sense of trust and respect.. "There was a helicopter on the roof of a store, and when we saw it, we thought it was military people stored up inside. Once we started to get the supplies, we heard a noise...it was at least a hundred biters."

Paul, one of the head watchmen, stepped forward, tightening the hold on his silver colored rifle. "No...no fucking way. That many biters? What happened?"

Martinez now stopped, coughing and wiping his eyes. If faking his emotions was going to trick the people into believing his story, then Martinez was all for it. "We started fighting back, killing every one of the biters. Pretty soon, he chopper came through the roof and destroyed half the store. It took out a lot of the walkers, but...it got The Governor too."

Woodbury suddenly became deadly quiet. Rowan, one of Philip's sexual partners, fell to her knees; at the same time, some of the town's younger residents began to cry, realizing their town's leader was gone. Soon, the entire town wept and mourned for Philip Blake, the man that'd saved them and tried to guide them to the light in a time of complete darkness.

"NO!" Rowan shouted, tears running rampant down her face. The woman's emotions were shared by everyone else in Woodbury, and for good reason. Woodbury had been the closest thing to civilization and normalcy since the outbreak had begun and society collapsed, all because of Philip Blake.

Standing in the crowd, Milton, Tyreese, and Sasha all began to console members of the town. "Having to put our leader, and my good friend, down because of his injuries, it was heartbreaking," Martinez revealed, his voice 'cracking' over the town's tears and moans. "I will never forget meeting The Governor for the first time, and him telling me about his grand idea - rebuilding society."

To an extent, Caesar felt bad that Philip was gone, but people died every day in this new world. Knowing that danger loomed all around in the form of both walkers and humans, it was too difficult to create the same bonds and relationships that one could in the old world. "The Governor was a fine man, and I learned much from him. He was a great leader, one we needed in this time of crisis."

"Martinez, tell me something," Alice Stevens, Woodbury's head doctor, said, capturing the town's attention. Dr. Stevens, an older black woman, took a drag of her cigarette before continuing. "I have two questions. First off, where's Andrea? She seemed like a pretty capable woman who could shoot a gun really well, so her disappearance concerns me. As for our Governor, did he die at this Big Spot, or you have his body?"

Martinez froze, not expecting anyone to ask about the full cause of death. _Damn, if I want to lead these people, planning _way _ahead is a skill I may as well pick up_. "Well, we lost Andrea, but I think she's alive. As for Governor, his right leg was completely busted, so we tried to amputate it and bring him back here; we figured Milton could give him some kind of wooden leg or something. He stopped us, though, and told us it wasn't worth it. He wanted...he wanted to end it, to be with his family. With his blessing, we ended his suffering, and we plan to cremate him tonight. That was one of his last wishes.

"Before he passed, however he told me to lead this town, continue to help us prosper," continued Martinez, grinning for the first time. Despite his happiness, Martinez tried not to shudder upon realizing he sounded like Philip; turning into The Governor, and being trapped in a world of darkness and insanity, was a fate Caesar Martinez was desperate to avoid.

The Woodbury citizens, now Martinez's people, began to mutter and slightly smile at their new leader. "I promise you people, I will take what The Governor was doing with this and build on it, and we _will _honor him!"

Cheers rang out, pleasing Martinez beyond belief. These people may have been crushed at the news of Philip's death, but it helped that they were so willing to accept Caesar as their new leader. "Now, I admit, I'm going to lead a bit differently than Governor," Martinez explained, crossing his arms. "First off, let's discuss leaving. In the past, The Governor was very against people leaving. Though I want everyone to stay, I realize this may not be the best fit for some of you. So, if you want out, and you think you can survive on your own, that's fine. I wish you luck, and you'll be given supplies and weapons."

"What about those prison dudes?" a younger member of Woodbury, Thomas, asked amid the murmuring of the new policy. Martinez remembered Thomas as one of the youngest soldiers that had joined Philip on the first prison assault; he had charisma, a skill Martinez was big on from his men. "Those guys came here and attacked us! Are we just gonna forget about them? What are you thinking, boss?"

Martinez shook his head, smiling at the young man. "After this town meeting concludes, I will discuss with the new Woodbury council - yes, there will be a council - what to do with the prison. If we want peace, fine. If we want to go in and take their prison, fine. We just can't run in there guns blazing, everyone got that?"

Seeing the looks of understanding on his people's faces, Martinez grinned. "Good, I'm glad. Anyways, the council will be made up of the following people - myself, Shumpert, Milton, Karen, and Dr. Stevens. Our first meeting is later tonight, so make sure to be there."

As Martinez turned to walk back inside, he quickly stopped. "Everything we do from now on, it's about Woodbury. I promise you people, we will _survive _and when this world belongs back to the living, they will write about Woodbury!"

For a brief second, the sullen mood of the town vanished, replaced by one of excitement and pride. Smiling, Martinez walked inside to what once was Philip's apartment, opened the door to the living room, and nodded at the man on his couch. Sitting down, locked in a metal pair of handcuffs Caesar had acquired on a recent run, was Allen.

"Allen, do you know why you're here?" Martinez questioned, frowning when the bearded man didn't reply. By this time, Shumpert had already raised his pistol, keeping it aimed at Allen. "I said, do you know why you're here?"

Despite his pain, Allen smirked at Martinez. "Yeah, because you put a newcomer on gate instead of watching the damn fucking thing yourself. It's not my fault that fucking bitch knocked me out!"

"Oh, so it's my fault? So it's _ours_?" Martinez shouted, kicking Allen in his chest. The sound of ribs breaking echoed through the room as Allen let out a loud, ear piercing, howl of pain. "You put all of us at risk, motherfucker! "

"What are you gonna do, kill me?" Allen asked, spitting on Martinez's boots. "Leave me to die, and leave my son here? Is that what you're gonna do, Martinez?"

Instead of directly responding, Caesar Martinez sighed and reached into his belt. "You see, Allen, this is my town now. Philip was a good leader, but he was fucking crazy. He started to care more about that prison than the town, and you could see that. I'm not going to be like that...I've already let people down before, and I sure as hell won't let it happen again."

Allen glared at Martinez, but the hispanic man didn't lose his cool. "I don't want to kill you, but we can't tolerate dead weight. Not anymore, man. You can't stay here. I'll give you supplies, a car, but you're not going to stay here...unless, you can prove your worth."

"You're...not gonna kill me?" Allen weakly asked, energy rapidly leaving his body. "How do I 'prove my worth' to you?"

"I know for a fact that the council isn't going to vote for war with the prison. You want to kill them all, I know. However, I want to at least meet with their people. Take a car to the prison with your son, and pass along word to these people I'd like to sit down with their leader," Caesar ordered, tossing Shumpert a "Tell them to bring Andrea; if you can do this, I won't be forced to kill you."

Catching the keys, Allen laughed to himself. "Why would you wanna sit down with these people after what they've done? If I were you, I'd go guns blazing into that prison and blast them all to bits."

"If the meeting doesn't go well, I'll consider it. I wouldn't worry about it, though" Caesar replied, annoyed with Allen's rebellious, stubborn, behavior. Martinez had been kind enough to spare this man, and yet, Allen wanted to keep arguing. "I want you out of here tomorrow morning, alright? Thank you, Allen."

"Yeah, no problem," Allen said, quickly walking out of the room. Martinez's intimidation tactics had clearly rattled the man, and Allen wanted nothing more than to find his son and sleep.

"You think that's the right call?" Shumpert questioned when he and Martinez were alone. "How do we know he's not gonna try to shoot up the prison?"

Taking a drag of his cigarette, Martinez kept a neutral look on his face. "He won't do anything. Starting tomorrow, this town is going to continue getting safer, and I'm not letting anyone ruin that. Trust me, Shump, those fuckers at the prison aren't gonna get in the way of that."

Shumpert opened his mouth to speak, but Caesar waved him off. "I'm not an idiot, Shump. I know Philip's obsession with the prison and killing that black bitch got in the way of Woodbury, and that's why Andrea took him out. You and I both could tell he was starting to lose it, you know that."

"It don't excuse the fact she straight up murdered The Governor," defended Shumpert, but even he knew Caesar was onto something.

"I'm _not _defending that, but I think if he had kept going down that path, the entire town would've been lost," Caesar replied, sighing. "He lost it a long time ago. The man was

keeping his own dead daughter locked up in his room, and had Milton trying to find a cure for her! He was too far gone, man."

Taking one last drag of his cigarette, Caesar threw it out the window. "Whatever happened in the past, we need to move past it. This is our town, now, and these are our people."

_Welcome back to Live For Tomorrow! I actually had a lot of fun writing this chapter, in part because I got to write two of my favorite characters in the entire show - Hershel and Rick. Also, think of this post chapter section (or the author's notes) as something similar to what AMC does with Inside: Walking Dead; it's not entirely necessary to read, but it's a good way to debrief. _

_In case you're wondering about Martinez and his line of thinking right now, just try to envision it from his point of view. This is a man who, as he said, let people down in the past; to him, Woodbury was a second chance, and he gets to make the most of that second chance and lead them in wake of Philip's death. In a way, Martinez is a bit like Rick in the sense that if anyone does anything to hurt him or his people, they're going to pay the price. _

_The common motif of this story, at least early on, is this idea of putting things in the past. For Rick's group, it's Merle's behavior, but for Woodbury, it's Philip's rule. When these two groups collide (at some point, they're gonna _have to!)_, this motif is going be explored a lot more. The same way people like to compare Rick and Philip, you should be able to spot _

_Next chapter, we get to see some more prison action, as well as The Governor's cremation + funeral. FP out, see ya'll next chapter._


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